Friday the 31th:  Campfire Stories
by nurzubesuch
Summary: The four detectives are sitting around a campfire after successfully solving their latest case. Everything is just nice. Until Shawn suggests to tell some ghost stories … and everybody has to tell one. Because those are the rules.


**Friday the 31. - Campfire Stories**

The night had settled down over the woods and the fire was dancing vigorously in the middle of their little camp. Shawn felt happy. He had no idea how they had managed it to get here – all of them – tonight but he was sure it was a good deal of luck and coincidence that had played its part in this happening. For instance the fact that they had made their last arrest (barely six hours ago) on a Friday as well as the opportunity to let McNab do the attached paperwork for them. Of course the fact that they had arrested them out here at the camping area, where they had been hiding and the offer of the owner to make up for his nonattention by allowing the S.B.P.D. to camp for free. But of course it would have been only three of them if it hadn´t been for Juliet´s overconvincing way of begging her partner to come along too. Shawn had no idea how she had done it but she had managed something he hadn´t been able to in a hundred years. She had managed to lure old grumbler Lassie out of his shell to accompany them on this camping weekend. So many things, so many coincidences and five years of working together had been necessary to make it happen but in the end that didn´t really matter, did it? The important thing was that they were all here. Together. Like in the old days of Boyscouts and camping under the star sky.

Yeah, Shawn was happy. Too many things were just perfect tonight. Alone the fact that Lassie had abandoned his stern suit and actually changed into something that could be called comfortable clothing. Even he looked relaxed while sitting at the fire, holding the marshmallow on his stick like they all did. The fact that he would share a tent with Jules tonight also made a big red point in Shawn´s top five. Although he couldn´t quiet decide if it came before or after the opportunity to tease Gus with old camping stories. Especially the ones that embarrassed Gus, like the one about Gus´ bad year at the camp. In that year he had gotten the runs from a bad pudding while they were on a hike and when he had followed the resulting call of nature into the woods, because of a lack of other options, he of course had cleaned himself with leaves of poison ivy.

„That was your fault, Shawn." Gus cried embarrassed. „You told me you hadn´t any paper with you and that I could just use some leaves like the Indians had done it."

„Dude, how could I have known that you would use those leaves from all in the world?"

„It was your fault anyway." Gus insisted while Jules was giggling behind her hand.

„God, Gus." she exhaled with a grimace of sympathy. „How bad was it?"

Gus opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind a second before he did. „That is nothing that belongs here." he said.

„You bet." Shawn laughed. „He was red all the way over his …"

„Shawn!"

„Oh, my god." Juliet cried but couldn´t help but laughed uncontrollably.

Lassiter squinted in sympathetic pain too when he heard the unfinished description. Shawn tried to keep the subject up but Gus´ really pissed face made him drop it after another minute. It had been enough anyway, he decided. Jules was already holding her stomach from all the laughing.

„Maybe we should talk about other things." Gus suggested.

„For example?"

„I don´t know. Suggest something."

„Something that doesn´t include any more accurately described rashs in the six o´clock regions of your camp mates if possible." Lassiter agreed.

Shawn thought this over for a moment. He had gotten the order to choose the next point on the list and he would take advantage of that. Maybe singing? Sounded intriguing. But then he had an even better idea.

„I know what we are doing!" he cried excited. „We´re telling some ghost stories. The ultimate campfire tradition. What do you say?"

„Oh, no." Jules said. „I don´t know."

„This is the best you could come up with?" Lassiter asked.

„Its either that or singing." Shawn replied.

Lassiter thought it over and then decided: „All right, tell a story then."

„I don´t like spooky stories." Jules said almost begging.

„No wait, you´ll like this." Shawn promised. „In this one a kid is the hero. Its a story about Voodoo and death. But it starts with a cop chasing a criminal down the streets. The criminal was a murderer and he was supposte to meet with a partner, who was waiting for him in his car. But the cop was a good cop and he shot at the murderer before he could reach the car. The partner, who was a coward, drove off and abandoned the murderer. Deadly wounded but still not ready to give up, the murderer kept running from the cop. He ran into a toy´s shop to hide from him but the cop followed. The murderer was bleeding and he knew that he was going to die …"

„This is Child´s Play, Shawn." Gus recognized. „You´re telling the plot of a film."

„I didn´t say that I wouldn´t." Shawn defended himself.

„But that is not the way this is supposte to be done." Gus argued. „You are supposte to tell stories of your own on a campfire."

„Well, you have a better one?"

„Bet your ass I have." Gus declared.

„Tell it." Juliet urged him and a second later she halted and mused: „Or … do I want to hear it? Is it very scary?"

„It is really good." Gus promised. Shawn snorted but Gus didn´t let that irritate him. He had this kind of glowing in his eyes, he always got when he was sure about something. He leaned a little forward and started to tell.

„This story happened in the old west, you know. I guess, since this is a campfire it is only convenient to tell it. Somewhat around the turn of the century, there was this mine, you see. It was one of the last mines that were still active."

„A gold mine." Shawn chuckled.

„No, Shawn. Silver. But what they were digging for is not important for this story."

Shawn raised his eyebrows but was quiet. Juliet was listening closely already and even Lassiter had shifted his position a little and was now listening, obviously caught by the fact that the story took place in the wild west. Gus who of course noticed the change in his audience´s behaviour went on.

„This mine was an old one, as I said. Many parts were already sealed up because they were either empty or too old and dangerous to work there. There had been a few collapses already, some of them not that long ago before this story takes place. The rest of the mine was told to be save enough to keep working though. Now one day the miners suddenly heard a knocking sound. As if metal was hit against wood. A metal mug to be precise. They could tell that it was that because every now and then one of them would hit their mugs against one of the joists to give a signal to a colleague or something like that. Anyway, they knew it was a miner who was knocking there with his mug. They followed the sound and found that it came from one of the collapsed parts of the mine. Of course they were alarmed immediately. One of the miners must have been trapped somehow. Though they had no idea how it could have happened but the signals were obvious."

Lassiter chuckled silently at the course of this story. He didn´t seem to be impressed. Jules on the other hand was digging her hands into Shawn´s sleeve. Shawn almost didn´t notice. He was banned by the story himself.

„The miners informed their boss and immediately started digging to get the trapped man out of there." Gus went on. „They tried to talk to the man but he never answered their calls. At least not with words. He was knocking with his mug again but he didn´t say something. They mused why and came to the conclusion that he might be too weak to talk. Or maybe he was hurt and just couldn´t. That urged them to dig faster of course. Who knew how long the man was already in there and in what shape he was. But the collapsed part of the tunnel was instable so they had to dig carefully. It took them hours to get through without risking the ceiling coming down on them. Again and again someone was ought to talk to the guy, to let him know that help was on the way. He still didn´t say anything but at least he was still knocking so they knew that he was hanging on."

„Did they get to him in time?" Juliet asked.

„After hours of digging, they finally broke through." Gus told. „There was a small cave you might say, that the collapse had spared when the ceiling came down. The poor guy must have been trapped right between the two sides when it happened."

„So they rescued him?" Juliet asked. There was a creepy glowing in Gus´ eyes. „You said they got through to him." she recalled insisting on that good ending.

„Oh, they came through to him." Gus said. „But what they found was not what they had expected. There was a man in there, yes. But he was dead. He was mummified, maybe for years. He was sitting in a corner of the cave, his face tanned and brown, looking at the new made hole, as if he had been waiting for them to arrive. And in his hand, he was holding a metal mug."

After he had finished there was a brief moment of silence. Gus was still smirking in this overconfident way of his.

„So …" Shawn started and had to clear his throat to bring his voice back to a normal level. „So this guy was dead all along?" he asked.

„He was." Gus affirmed.

„But how could he have been knocking then?"

„He couldn´t."

„But somebody _was_ knocking."

„Shawn."

„I´m sorry but that doesn´t make any sense."

„You tried to retell a film." Gus cried offended. „Come up with something better."

„Oh, better not." Jules said rubbing her arms. „I think that was already enough, don´t you think?"

„What?" Shawn asked. „No way. We´re just getting started. Everybody has to tell at least one story. Those are the rules."

„What rules?" she asked.

„The rules of the campfire." Gus explained. „He´s right. Although he failed pathetically at his try … this is still happening."

„Happening."

„Its your turn, Jules." Shawn spoke it out without any doubt. „You have to tell something. Anything. Come on, I´m sure you know some high-end Scottish scary tales."

„I don´t know any spooky stories." she denied the assumption but only a few seconds after she had said that, she halted as if something had just come to her mind. „No, wait, that´s not true." she said. „I _do_ know a story."

„Yes." Shawn cheered. „I knew it."

Juliet shrugged. „Its just … something my grandfather used to tell me, when I was a kid. He was a sailor and he probably made it up."

„Doesn´t matter, tell it." Shawn insisted.

„Well." she said and shifted in her place a little to sit bolt upright. „First of all, he said he heard it from a friend, who heard it from another friend, who he claimed, was there. As I said, its nothing but spinning a yarn."

„Tell it." Shawn repeated.

„All right. Well, there was this ship. The name just slipped my mind but it was on its way home to the shores of Scotland this one year in the last century. I think it was 1899 actually. Anyway they were slowly running out of supplies and water and it was overdue to finally get to land again. Their target was the shore at the Orkney-Islands. And then they were surprised by a storm what threw them off course so they found themselves lost for orientation."

„Cool, a ghost ship story." Shawn exclaimed gleaming excited.

„Well, not exactly." Juliet said. „They were lost as I said but they knew they had to be close to the coast. The storm had shaken them but not that much. They only didn´t know in what direction the shores were because all the sudden they were surrounded by this thick fog. They couldn´t see anything and the compas suddenly didn´t work anymore."

„The Bermuda Triangle." Shawn whispered, grinning widely.

„Would you shut up and listen?" Gus demanded.

„It was almost like that." Juliet agreed. „They just didn´t know where to go. They tried to wait for the fog to clear but it just didn´t and in the end the captain had to make a decision. They were running out of supplies and if they would wait much longer they would starve. But if they would start heading into the wrong direction, they would get lost on the sea and starve there. It was seemingly a hopeless situation. But then, right in the moment when the captain was about to order to head into a certain direction, another ship came out of the fog. It passed them and then headed back into the fog. The opposite direction than the one the captain had chosen. He immediately ordered to follow that ship, knowing that it would lead them to the shores of Scotland."

„How could he know that it would head for Scotland?" Gus asked.

„It was the Mary Stuart." Juliet said. „One of the best known warships of the Scottish. They followed her and after a few hours they truly spotted the shores of Scotland. By following that ship, they had found their way back home."

„Great." Shawn stated a little confused. „But why is that a scary story? Did I miss something?"

„No." Juliet said. „This is something you can´t know." She looked at him in a strange way, as if she expected him to guess it on his own. „The Mary Stuart sank ten years earlier." she finally explained. „In a storm exactly like the one that had thrown them off course and not so far from the spot where they had been lost in that fog. In the waters of Scapa Flow."

„Scapa Flow." Gus exclaimed impressed. „There are many wrecks on the ground of that water. I read an article in National Geographic about that place."

„Wow." Shawn exclaimed. „But … that´s just a story, right? Your grandfather´s friend was not really on that ship. I mean …" he chuckled. „Things like that don´t happen."

On the other side of the fire they heard a quiet snort from Lassiter.

„I already told you, its just old men spinning yarn." Juliet said. „You wanted me to tell a story."

„And you did great with that." Shawn praised. „Much better than Gus."

„No, she didn´t." Gus objected.

„Gus." Shawn said. „Mummies don´t knock with their old coffee mugs. That´s a kids prank."

„But ghost ships that come back from the other side to guide lost ships back to land is more convincing?"

„She never said the story was real."

„Shawn."

„Guys." Juliet interrupted them. „This is not a contest. I found Gus´ story also very good. I liked it."

„Thank you, Juliet." Gus emphasized.

Shawn chuckled but then decided that he didn´t want to tease Gus any more. He´d rather hear another story.

„What about you, Lassie?" he asked therefore.

Lassiter was sitting quietly on the other side of the fire, his arms resting on his knees. He was looking up and over the ends of his indexfingers in a contemplative mood. „I don´t know any stories." he claimed calmly.

„I don´t believe you." Shawn chanted and raised his hand to his temple. „The spirits tell me that you have one."

Lassiter squinted a little at him but didn´t say anything.

„Come on, Carlton." Juliet supported Shawn. „We all did our part. Now its your turn."

„Its not really a story." he said taking his hands down to poke into the fire with his stick. „More like an … anecdote."

„What? You mean you experienced it yourself?"

„Dude." Shawn exclaimed. „Now you have to tell it."

Again Lassiter threw him this calm and somehow strange glance. The shine of the fire was illuminating his face, making his eyes looking darker than they actually were. Even before he started to tell, Shawn felt excited by what was supposte to come.

„I never told this story to anyone before." Lassiter said. „I probably shouldn´t tell it now either."

„But you will." Shawn said and then leaned over to Gus, whispering: „Dude, I bet after he told us, he´ll have to kill us."

„Don´t be silly, Spencer." Lassiter said still in this calm way of his. „I´m not going to kill you because of this story. But maybe something else might."

Shawn and Gus both raised their eyebrows at this. A short draft came up and let the fire dance before them. Lassiter was looking into the flames.

„I was still a rookie when this happened." he said as if he was talking to himself. „I was on my way home after a late shift." He looked up for a moment, glancing upwards. „It was a night almost like this." he said. „I stopped with my car at a street light, when a report came in over my radio. A drunken driver was on the run, avoiding arrest. I had just noticed that he was heading my way, when I already saw the named car passing me. Of course I reported that I had seen him and started to follow. I was a young cop and eager to prove myself. So I chased the man. He was driving a small light red car that looked as if it had its best years behind it. But that didn´t keep it from racing along the streets. It was a miracle that he didn´t cause any accidents. You can imagine how glad I was when we left the heavy traffic behind and drove over land. I was so mesmerized to catch that guy that I didn´t even notice that I was the only cop, who still followed him. I hadn´t seen _any_ other cop car chasing this man for that matter. Maybe they had lost him after this last report. I picked up my radio to tell them that we had left the city limits. But I only got static."

„You couldn´t reach anyone?" Juliet asked. „What did you do?"

„I tried it again but with the same result. Then I tried to turn on the radio but there was no music either. Only the white noise."

„Strange." Juliet said.

„I was so distracted by that, that I almost didn´t see that the driver had stopped before me. But he hadn´t just stopped. He had spun the car around so that it was blocking the road now. I immediately hit the brakes and somehow managed it to make my own car stop before crashing into that mad man´s car."

„Was he unconscious?" Gus asked but Lassiter shook his head.

„He was on the run. He had abandoned his car and was now running down the turnpike. Left and right of the street there were only fields, so I had the time to get out of my car and yell after him that he should stop. Of course he didn´t do it."

„Of course." Shawn snorted. „Somehow this line never works, now does it?"

Lassiter smiled subtly at this. „I followed him." he went on. „Probably the most stupid thing I could have done."

„Why that?" Shawn asked.

„I could have gotten lost." Lassiter explained. „The fields can be tricky in the nights. One funny edge or an unforeseen depression and you have no idea where you are. There were no street lights along that road we had been driving. Only the headlights of my own car and if I would find myself in such a depression what would block my sight back to that road … I could have lost my track."

„But you were just outside of Santa Barbara." Juliet recalled. „Weren´t you?"

„We had in fact driven farther than I had noticed." Lassiter told her. „But that is something I didn´t know back then. In this moment I just wanted to catch that drunken driver. Though I already guessed that he couldn´t be that drunk after all when he was running so steadily over such an unsteady ground. I only caught up with him because he had stopped on a certain point."

„Why did he stop?" Juliet asked.

„There is a ravine." Lassiter told her. „Its called the Dead Man´s Ravine. Maybe you have heard of it."

„This ravine is twenty miles outside from Santa Barbara." Gus frowned. „How long have you been following that guy?"

„Pursuit driving flash." Shawn answered the question with a grin and Lassiter actually nodded.

„Anyway, I caught up with the guy. He was just standing there at the spot where the old tree grows. The Dead Man´s Tree. He was standing at the edge of the ravine as if he was ready to jump."

„Oh, god." Juliet exhaled. „Did he do it? Did he jump?"

„I told him to turn around and step away from the ravine." Lassiter went on without answering her question. „He didn´t react. I repeated it more emphasizing and … harsher than before. I was aiming my gun at him. A pretty silly thing to threat a man with a gun when he already seems suicidal. But it was the only thing I could think of. At last he turned around to me. And when I saw his face …"

Lassiter shook his head as if he wasn´t sure himself what to think about it, even after all these years.

„I thought I was looking into the face of a dead man." he said at last. „The moon was full that night and I could see him pretty good. His skin was pale and his eyes … his eyes were glassily. And I mean literally glassily. Like there was a milky film over them. He looked tired."

„_`It was here.´_ he said quietly looking straight at me. _`I took them with me, you see. I had no idea.´_"

„I told him that he should step away from the ravine, desperately trying to sound tough like the cop that I was. He obeyed and I told him that he was arrested for drunken driving and trying to avoid being arrested. He didn´t seem to hear my words at all. He just looked at me with these hollow and glassily eyes of his. And then he spoke up again. I will never forget those words."

„What did he say?" Juliet asked.

„He said: _`Sometimes my hands are burning. And then I can hear their screams again. I hear them all the time.´_"

Shawn and Gus exchanged an uneasy glance with each other. Lassiter nodded at them.

„I thought the same thing." he agreed. „Another of these alcoholics who had killed their family and for some stupid reason survived the accident themselves. And for some odd reason I suddenly remembered one of these accidents that had happened in this area a year or so earlier. The thing had been in the newspapers because it had been so cruel. A family, father, mother and daughter had died when their car had left the street and rolled over and then burned out. Their name had been Marshalls and they had been on their way home from a school performance of the little girl. The father had been an alcoholic like the guy that I was talking to in this moment. Why I remembered that in that moment I don´t know."

„I told the man that he could talk to the departments psychologist about his bad consciousness if he wanted but he had to come with me now. He just looked at me and kept talking."

„_`I tried to hold onto the wheel.´_ he told me. _`But it started to burn. I tried to hold it but I couldn´t. Everything was burning. And then their screams.´_ Then he started to cry."

„I told him to turn around so I could cuff him and he did. When I lay the cuffs around his wrists I got a look at his palms. They were burned. But not just burned like covered with scars. They were red as if it just happened and there were black spots of something that was burned right into his flesh. I think it was leather. Like from a steering wheel."

Shawn made a sound of disgust at this mental image. „This is getting a little more graphic than I expected it." he said. „Lassie, this story is supposte to be spooky not nasty."

„Shhh, Shawn." Juliet silenced him. „If that is what happened, then it is what he has to tell."

„I asked him, what had happened to his hands but he wouldn´t answer." Lassiter went on as if the whole interruption hadn´t happened at all. „He just repeated what he had said before. That he could still hear their screams. So I told him that he had to come with me now, but he just shook his head. He said, he wouldn´t go anywhere. _`I can´t leave my family behind.´_ he said. I guess that was the first time I started to guess that something was way off about this man."

„I asked him: _`What was your name again?´_"

„And he told me his name was Andrew Marshalls."

Lassiter paused for a second to look at them all. No one said a word.

„I told him that this was impossible." he went on. „That he couldn´t be Andrew Marshalls. That I knew Andrew Marshalls was dead. That he had died a year ago in a car accident."

„He didn´t give a response. Just kept looking at me."

„And then I heard a branch braking behind me."

In this moment coincidence let a branch brake in the woods behind them as well, making them all flinch and Gus scream out in a high pinching voice. He was clinging to Shawn´s arm that hard that it started to hurt. Shawn yanked it away from him.

„Dude." he said. „Pull yourself together. Seriously. That´s kinda embarrassing."

Gus had stopped shrieking. He looked as if he had just woken up from a bad dream and was now realizing that it indeed had been only a dream. With an expression of embarrassment he went back to his place on the treetrunk. He still looked uneasy though.

„You don´t even know yet what I saw when _I_ turned around." Lassiter said. They all stared at him with wide eyes, neither of them dared to even ask. „It was a woman who stood there." Lassiter said. „A little girl on her hand. They were both burned. Their hair was gone and half of their clothing too. Their skin was brown and smothered and their eyes were as milky as the eyes of the man. The little girl was holding a teddy bear that was not more than a clump of black plush."

„I could see that they were dead. I could see it but I couldn´t believe it. I always considered myself a rational man. I still do. But what I saw that night … I looked at them and I almost died of pure fright. I´d never thought I´d ever admit that but it is the absolute truth. I was standing there and something inside of me just refused to work. I was frozen dead. Literally. And then I heard the footsteps of the man behind me and somehow that woke me up. I swirled around and saw him approaching me. My feet got caught in the gras and I slipped and fell down. Somehow I managed it to raise my gun and pull the trigger."

„There is no way that I could have missed him. He was just one foot away from me. I know I hit him. But nothing happened. He just went on approaching me. And I … I just lay there on the ground unable to move or to do anything but stare up into those empty eyes of a man that had died almost a year ago."

„And then the voice of a little girl came up. Tiny and weak, the way little girls always sound in those TV shows you can watch in the afternoons. She was calling her daddy. And at this call her daddy stopped and turned his head to look at her."

„In that moment, when he looked at her and away from me, it was as if the spell that had been holding me there, was broken."

„Maybe it was."

„I struggled back to my feet and just ran. I ran as if the devil itself was behind me. And who knows, maybe he was."

„I ran back to my car. The light red Ford I had been chasing and that had blocked the street before me, was gone. I could see the skid marks the wheels had left on the pavement though. But I didn´t stop to wonder what had happened to the car. I had seen what had happened to the driver and his passengers and that was enough. I got behind my own wheel, made a u-turn and raced back to Santa Barbara as fast as I could."

After his last sentence it was silent for a while. Lassiter was looking into the fire again, while the others were staring at him in shock and disbelieve.

„What did you do when you came back?" Juliet asked him. „Did you report it?"

Lassiter chuckled. „Report what? That I had met a family of zombies? They would either believe that I was crazy or drunk."

„Then what _did_ you do?"

„I went to the next bar and literally spent the night there, trying to get back to my senses. The next day I had the worst hangover I could ever remember and such a head." He made a gesture with his hands to indicate how big his head had felt in its aching. „But it had also its good part. The almost delirium I drank myself into that night helped me to convince myself that I had only dreamed all this. That I had imagined the whole thing. And who knows." he said looking into the fire again. „Maybe I have."

The three recipients exchanged some uneasy looks with each other. None of them had the slightest idea what to make of this story. But this silence that suddenly surrounded them, made it even worse.

„Ehm, Lassie." Shawn eventually spoke up.

„Yes, Spencer." Lassiter replied all too eager to listen to his question.

Shawn chuckled. „That was an amazing story." he said and Lassiter nodded gratefully. „But …" Shawn went on. „It was … a story, right? I mean. You made that up, didn´t you?"

„Oh, sure." Lassiter said promptly. „Sure."

Shawn only stared at him startled. Somehow that hadn´t sounded quiet right. He looked at Gus and Jules and saw the same kind of uncertainty in their eyes. When he looked at Lassiter again, the detective´s eyes were the same as always. Soft, gentle and over the flickering light of the fire, inscrutable.

„This didn´t really happen to you when you were a rookie." he asked again for confirmation, just to make sure.

„Of course not." Lassiter said. „I told you. I was drinking in a bar that night."

And that was all he ever said when asked about that story.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy Halloween to all of you. I hope I could give you a sweet little fright with that.<strong>

**And thanks for reading.**


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